


I'm So Tired of Losing

by 00trumpet



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00trumpet/pseuds/00trumpet
Summary: Tobin learns the importance of loss.





	I'm So Tired of Losing

Loss is an important part of growth. Maturity, learning, loving; the most  _ basic _ fundamentals of life are best understood when dealing with loss.

Tobin Heath understands that. 

She loses countless games growing up. She’s on a not-great team with a not-great coach and some not-great teammates. It’s hard having the talent, being the best, with nothing to show for it.  

But that’s okay, because she knows that loss teaches an important lesson. 

When she’s in high school, she’s a star. Her junior year, she leads her team to the first playoffs it’s been to in over a decade, and they nearly win the whole damn thing. 

But they don’t. 

They’re up 3-0 but two goals in quick succession at the start of the second half is enough to make her team lose their spirit. 

A last minute equalizer is enough to send it to penalties. 

And then, well, Tobin is the only one to miss her PK. 

And they lose. 

But she doesn’t just lose a game. She loses the championship, her stardom, nearly any spirit she has. 

And then senior year comes and goes and she has recruiters from far and wide. And that helps, for a little while. She goes to UNC and she wins and wins and wins, so much that she almost forgets what it feels like to lose. 

And then senior year comes around, and she experiences a whole new kind of loss. 

She has a girlfriend for a few of those wonderful years of college. A pretty girl named Casey who loves soccer and loves winning almost as much as Tobin does. 

Tobin loves Casey, more than she loves winning. 

“I could win a soccer game anywhere, but if I have you by my side, then I’m a  _ winner _ . I’m only a winner if I have you.”

Casey laughs softly and traces patterns into the exposed skin of Tobin’s forearm where her sleeve is riding up. “You’d be a winner anywhere, Tobin.”

Tobin doesn’t quite believe her, but smiles and laughs anyway. 

Then Casey leaves. Two days before the draft their senior year, Casey knocks on the door to Tobin’s apartment. 

“I’m leaving you.”

Tobin laughs easily and leans against the doorframe. “Case, what are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Tobin’s smile fades and she stands up a little straighter. “I, uhm, are you sure?” Which is a dumb way to say it, and not the right thing to say, and Tobin kicks herself for years. 

“I’m sure, Tobin.”

And that’s it. Casey walks away, and Tobin tells herself that loss teaches a good lesson, and doesn't even follow her. Doesn't ask for an explanation. Doesn't anything. 

Tobin is picked up by Atlanta Beat in the 2010 draft and plays perfectly, just about as perfectly as she can. And things are good. 

She misses Casey for what feels like decades. 

She never calls her, never asks her why, never questions it. 

The Atlanta Beat loses a lot of games. They make it all the way to May, and still haven't won a game. 

And Tobin is mad. She’s mad and rough and reckless because  _ dammit _ she is just so  _ tired _ of losing. 

So she’s a little too mad and a little too rough and a little too reckless, and then at a game in late May, Tobin leaves the field on a stretcher. 

She’s placed on the season-ending injury list on May 28th. 

Tobin starts to think that no matter how many life lessons it may teach, she is really fucking tired of losing. 

The Atlanta Beat gets their first win on June 19, and Tobin is there to watch it. 

Her team is winning, but she isn’t, and that somehow makes it worse. 

But her team really hits their stride and she can’t help but be a little happy for them, as frustrated as she is for herself. 

And then her boot comes off after a very long 8 weeks. 

And then she’s running by September. And she’s  _ playing _ playing soon after that. And then the national team qualifies for the World Cup and then her name is on the roster. 

And she becomes very good friends with a very pretty girl. 

Alex is supportive about Tobin getting back on the field. She’s supportive about Tobin running at her own pace and playing as much as she can manage and they sit together on the bus and room together when they can and they play card games until their brand new decks feel soft and old. 

They’re best friends. 

Tobin loves Alex like she hasn't loved anyone for a very, very long time. 

They go to the World Cup together and they make it all the way to the final. 

The night before the final, Tobin admits something to Alex. 

“I hate losing,” she says, followed by a light laugh. 

“Don’t we all,” Alex agrees easily. 

“No, I,” Tobin shakes her head. “I  _ hate _ it. I get that it’s important and teaches lessons and,” Tobin shrugs. “That doesn’t make me hate it any less.”

Alex starts to nod understandingly as Tobin continus. 

“I’ve lost a lot in my life, Lex. I don’t know I can handle it if we lose tomorrow.”

Alex gives Tobin a sad smile and pulls her into a tight hug. “Well then we won’t lose.”

They lose. 

Tobin can’t really blame Alex for that, though.

Alex scores a goal, the first goal of the match, and Tobin loves her for that.

Tobin misses her penalty kick, and she isn’t the only one to miss it this time, but she hates herself for it anyway.

Alex puts her arms around Tobin and whispers comforting words and lets Tobin cry and cry and cry.

“I’m so tired of losing, Lex,” Tobin whispers as they lie in bed that night. Tobin’s silver medal is still around her neck and she can’t tear her eyes away from it.

Alex’s is off somewhere else, because she can’t stand to look at it. “I’m so sorry, Tobin.” Alex takes Tobin’s medal off from around her neck despite her weak protests and slips it into a drawer of the bedside table. She rests inches away from Tobin’s face and strokes her hair ever-so softly. 

Tobin kisses Alex using only the moonlight from the window to guide her, and Alex kisses her back, and for a moment, she can convince herself that things are okay.

The next morning Tobin wakes up and Alex is already sitting there, reading, a few inches of space away from Tobin.

“Lex, I’m sorry for last night, I just--” Tobin rubs at her eyes as she sits up and speaks too quickly and Alex just smiles, reaching her hand out to rest over Tobin’s. 

“You hate losing,” Alex finishes for her, and Tobin laughs softly. “But you’ll never lose me.”

And everything is perfect for a long, long time. Tobin doesn’t lose again, not  _ really _ anyway.

She has Alex.

So they go to the Olympics the next year, and they win the whole damn thing. And the WPS folds but it seems like just as fast as it does, the NWSL pops up in its place. And it’s a better league with stronger teams and stronger funds.

And then she has Alex, again. Because they go to Portland. 

And then Tobin falls in love with the city win by win, just like she fell in love with the girl. 

Except the final thing that seals the deal isn’t a World Cup final loss, it’s an NWSL championship. And Tobin goes back to Portland, the city she’s in love with, hand in hand with the girl she’s in love with, and a shiny gold medal around her neck.

And everything is perfect.

She bounces back and forth to Paris a bit, and Alex is nothing if not supportive. Alex understands that it’s important to her and they call every night and Tobin wins and wins and wins in Paris. And everything is perfect.

Then before she knows it, she’s still in the city she loves with the girl she loves, and it’s 2015, and it’s time to try this whole World Cup thing again. So they do.

The night before the final, Tobin sneaks out of her hotel room to see Alex.

“I don’t think I can handle losing tomorrow,” she admits to Alex, and Alex smiles, and pulls her into a hug, and she doesn’t have to say anything to let Tobin know that she understands perfectly.

“We won’t lose, then,” she says ever-so simply, as if it’s ever-so simple, and Tobin trusts her.

And they don’t lose.

And everything is absolutely perfect.

Everything has been so perfect for so long, that she almost forgets what it feels like to lose.

And the last time that happened, the last time everything was that perfect, she lost what was most important. She lost Casey.

So Tobin starts to panic.

She spends the rest of the NWSL season panicking and they end the season all the way in 6th place, and that just makes it worse. So she lashes out.

“I keep losing, why do I keep losing?”

“It happens, honey,” Alex says, ever-so patiently. “We have bad games and bad seasons. We have next year. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s  _ not  _ okay. I’m losing again, I-- I  _ hate _ losing.”

“I know you do.”

“No, you don’t get it, Alex. I hate it. I can’t stand it.”

“I do get it--” Alex starts to say, but Tobin just cuts her off. 

“I am  _ losing _ . Losing the season, losing  _ you _ ,” she yells before pausing with a frustrated sigh.

“You’re not losing me, Tobin.” Alex reaches out to rest her hand on Tobin’s shoulder but Tobin just shakes her off.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Tobin grabs her coat and leaves their apartment and doesn’t come back until late that night.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to Alex as she crawls into bed. “I don’t want to lose anymore. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” Alex whispers back and she wraps her arms around Tobin. “You won’t.”

The next week Alex’s name is in every paper, on every news channel, in every magazine.

_ Alex Morgan Traded to New NWSL Franchise Orlando Pride _

Tobin tries to be happy for her.

“This is great, really. That you’re the powerhouse that they think was enough to start a club for.”

“I guess so,” Alex just shrugs. “But I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to lose you.”

Tobin laughs, forced and too hard. “Then don’t.”

They don’t make it three weeks past the start of the season.

They fight every night, they yell through the phone, they argue about every last pointless thing.

“Do you really need me to ship that sweater to you? Don’t you have other sweaters?”

“It’s my favorite sweater, Tobin.”

“I’m not anywhere near the post office.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it must be  _ so _ hard for you to stay in your cushy apartment in your favorite city and do nothing all day.”

“Without you, Alex.”

“What?”

“It is so fucking hard without you. I don’t do anything, because I don’t want to do anything without you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Then three weeks into the season, Orlando flies to Portland and Alex spends all of her free time with Tobin.

“God I’ve missed you. This city, our apartment, of course, but mostly you.”

“This city’s not the same without you, Lex.”

And it’s perfect until the night after the game.

Because Orlando beats Portland and, well, Tobin hates losing.

So Tobin lashes out.

“Did you have to score  _ two _ goals? Scoring on us once wasn’t enough for you?”

“Tobin, it is my job.”

“But does it have to be?”

“How dare you ask me that.” Alex scoffs and looks at the ground before back up to Tobin.

“You could’ve been easier than that. I don’t know that nearly killing my keeper was necessary.”

“Oh, and not coming to check on me when I was down for a full minute, was that necessary?”

“You’re not my teammate anymore.” Tobin crosses her arms. “Even if you are my girlfriend.”

“Well maybe I shouldn’t be that anymore, either.”

“What?” Tobin uncrosses her arms and her defense falls.

“I can’t do this with you Tobin, you’re acting like a child.”

“No, Alex,” Tobin jogs to the door and stands in front of it, blocking Alex’s path. “Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you, too.”

Alex doesn’t ask about the  _ too _ , because she doesn’t need to know. It’s too late by now.

“Maybe this is just one of those life-lessons you’re always talking about,” Alex says softly, looking to the ground. “Maybe this is another loss that needs to happen.”

“Don’t, Alex.”

“Let me through, Tobin.”

“I can’t.”

“Now.”

Tobin backs away from the door and Alex leaves and Tobin doesn’t follow her.

Tobin doesn’t call her.

Tobin just accepts that this is a loss, and maybe something she needs to learn from.

Tobin hates losing.

Later that summer, she goes to Rio with the national team, and avoids Alex entirely. 

She grows close with Christen. She falls in love with Christen.

Christen is easy to fall in love with. Tobin thinks it’s a miracle that everyone who’s ever seen her isn’t in love with her.

“Did you know your smile could brighten my whole day?” Tobin asks as she looks up at Christen, who smiles in response.

“Yeah?” Christen starts stroking Tobin’s hair as she looks down to her in her lap.

“Yeah.”

Rio is great, until it isn’t. They tie a game that they should’ve won against Colombia in the group stages and then they tie Sweden and it goes to penalty kicks.

The tournament isn’t even far enough in for Tobin to admit to Christen that she hates losing, that she can’t handle another loss.

But then before she knows it, they’ve lost.

It’s unreal. Tobin watches Christen’s shot sail above the goal and they’ve lost, before she’s even registered that it happened. 

Tobin doesn’t think she’s going to say anything to Christen, because Christen is the reason they lost, and that seems to make the most sense. 

But then Alex shows up at Tobin’s room, because she knows Tobin is going to need someone, and Tobin isn’t even there. 

Alex doesn’t know where to find her, and Alex broke up with her months ago so it really isn’t her place, so she retreats to her room.

Tobin is with Christen, holding Christen, who is broken.

“I hate losing,” Christen mumbles into Tobin’s chest, and Tobin can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Chris.” Tobin rubs at Christen’s back and holds her tightly. “I do, too.”

And Tobin starts to realize that maybe, sometimes, losing just sucks. And all you need is someone to say that yeah, it sucks.

“I’m sorry I missed that penalty kick,” Christen mumbles into the chest of Tobin’s tear-stained sweatshirt. “I just, I--”

“You’re okay, Chris.” Tobin takes a slow deep breath and continues to rub circles into her back. “Losing just sucks.”

They spend a bit longer in the area, watching events and being tourists. 

Tobin hasn’t bothered to talk to Alex in months but on her last night in Brazil, she sneaks out of the room she got with Christen, and calls Alex.

Alex answers after a few rings, surprised more than anything. They’re both silent for a moment but can hear each other’s wary breathing, and then Tobin breaks the silence with a soft tone and gentle words.

“I’m sorry you missed your penalty.”

Alex doesn’t say anything for a moment, not sure what to say, because she doesn't expect this from Tobin. Tobin always tries to find blame and, well, her ex that was supposed to set the tone for the shootout would be a pretty good target. 

“It’s not your fault we lost,” Tobin continues at a whisper.

“Thank you, Tobin,” Alex finally says, and Tobin nods even though Alex can’t see her. 

“You’re welcome.”

Alex wants to say more, wants to apologize, but she isn’t quite sure how.

Tobin beats her to the punch anyway.

“I’m sorry we ended how we did,” Tobin finally says. “None of that was your fault; the move, the fights, the losses,” she trails off with a heavy sigh. 

They can’t be far from each other (Alex is just three floors up in the same hotel, actually) but it feels like countries apart, somehow. 

It also feels like the closest they’ve been in months. 

“That was all,” Tobin finally says, after a too-long silence filled with uncertainty.

“Okay,” Alex says. “Uhm, Tobin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Tobin goes back to Christen who’s fast asleep and even though the team lost, she feels like a winner.

The 2016 NWSL season doesn’t end in the easiest way.

Christen plays with the Red Stars on September 30, and they lose, despite Christen doing everything she can.

_ I hate losing _ , she texts Tobin that night. 

Tobin plays for the team she loves, in the city she loves, on October 2.

That night, she texts Christen.  _ Me too _ .

They spend a wonderful off-season together, in love. 

Christen makes Tobin learn to meditate and do yoga with her.

“It’s good for you. Back when I was really struggling I started to pick it up, and it made me a better player and a better person.”

“Do I have to do it?”

“Yes.”

Tobin helps Christen learn to let go a little bit.

“We’re not playing soccer inside.”

“Why not?”

“What if we break something?”

Tobin shrugs. “The trophy case is in the other room, I don’t own anything else breakable.”

“You own like a million mugs.”

“Those are yours.”

“Well I don’t want you breaking them.

“We’ll be careful.”

They both focus a little more on the life outside of winning and losing.

“Not everything has to be categorized as a win or a loss,” Tobin says one day as they sit on their balcony. She says it slowly, as if it’s profound and will be quoted in literature classes for decades to come.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

Tobin laughs easily as she looks at Christen. “Being with you makes me feel like a winner, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” Tobin shakes her head. “But sometimes, when I’ve been winning for so long, it seems like I end up losing everything.”

Christen reaches out to take Tobin’s hand. “You won’t lose me.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

Christen shakes her head and looks at Tobin fondly. “Well you have to keep fighting. You don’t just win or lose. You fight and you win and you keep fighting.”

“I guess so.”

“When you get injured, do you just count that as a loss and never run again?”

“No.”

“When you lose a game, do you quit playing soccer?”

“No.” 

“When you feel like you’re losing me, will you just let go?”

Tobin thinks for a second, thinks about the times she’s let go instead of fighting.

She thinks about Casey walking away, thinks about Alex walking away, thinks about how she doesn’t want to make the same mistakes.

“No.”

“What is it you always say, Tobin?”

“Loss teaches an important lesson.”

“And what is that lesson?”

Tobin stares at Christen blankly for a moment, and realizes that she has no idea. She has lost and lost and lost and chalked it up to a lesson she needs to learn, and has never realized what that lesson is.

“I don’t know,” she admits after a few moments of silence.

“That’s your problem.” Christen gives Tobin a small smile, as if she’s won something. “You’ve been just accepting loss your whole life, but you never took the time to understand why.”

“So,” Tobin looks at Christen and tilts her head to the side. “Why?”

“Because things are worth fighting for,” she say simply. “The biggest lesson we learn from loss is that we haven’t really lost until we’ve stopped fighting."

**Author's Note:**

> Ok tbh I had this idea to write as a multichapter but then I was like "if I do that I'll never write it" so I was just writing this to explain the storyline to one of my friends & I ended up rly liking it. I've never written in this style before so ig lmk what you think & if you'd be interested in smth else this style here or on tumblr (beckysaucrbrunn) (or my kellex blog w my friend @whatthekellex) & don't ask if I'd ever write this as a multichapter bc the answer is no lol


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